Thou shall not covet
by Little.Latina
Summary: And he could swear he can hear her whispering in his ear he shouldn't love her this much, because she is a married woman, because she made a commitment to someone else and she can't break a vow she took before the eyes of God, even though she is unhappy and miserable, even though she knows she doesn't belong with her husband but with him.


She can't be his.

He wishes she were. He wishes it with all of his heart and soul. But she isn't. She can't be.

They _belong_ together- they both know it, they do- but they can't _be_ together.

She's someone else's.

She belongs _with him_, but she's _with someone else_.

He can't have her.

He can't take that which isn't his.

He shouldn't want that which isn't his.

But he does.

He wants her. He wants someone else's wife. He wants another man's son's mother. He shouldn't, but he does, and he doesn't care. He wants her just the same. He wants all of her. And whatever time they have left to live- whether it be a hundred years, fifty years, twenty five years, a couple of months, a couple of weeks, or just a spare five minutes- he wants them to spend it together.

But they can't.

They won't.

He can't have her, or a lifetime together with her, or a fifteen minute passionate lovemaking session against the warehouse's wall (oh, if walls could _talk_, the things they'd have to say about them), because she isn't his to have, she isn't his to spend his life with, she isn't his to make passionate love to.

She's married to someone else. Her child is someone else's.

A man who doesn't love or respect her like he should.

A man she means nothing to.

A man that wouldn't even noticed if one day she were gone.

That other man doesn't care about her.

But she is that other man's wife, and her son is that other man's.

He's tried everything and anything to move on with his life, but he just can't get over her. He's tried, he's tried a million times, and he's failed pathetically. He keeps trying, and he keeps failing pathetically. He regrets everything he did wrong and everything he didn't do right. He regrets letting her get away and into the arms of another man. She is in his heart, and his soul, and his head, and he can't make her leave. She's nested there, in between his lungs; just like poison she has spread all over his system, and there's no known antidote. She's in his blood, and in his veins, and in his cells, and in each and every one of his fibers, and in the very core of him, and he doesn't know how to detoxify himself. He knows he'll never be able to detoxify himself.

So he is left with the aching, and the withdrawal syndrome, and the memories, and the regrets, and a list with a thousand questions (they all start with 'what if'), and the guilt (because she isn't happy, and somehow he's found a thousand reasons why he is- partially- to blame) and the _wanting_.

The wanting is the worst. It's worse than everything else. It's worse than knowing just how wonderful and beautiful and terrible and tragic true love actually is.

He shouldn't feel this way. He shouldn't have these greedy feelings. He shouldn't desire another man's wife. He shouldn't wish he had another man's luck, another man's life, another man's child. He shouldn't wish she were his to love. She was his to love, once, but he hurt and disappointed her, and then they got caught in a web of misunderstanding and lies, and they kept disappointing and hurting each other until they couldn't recognize themselves anymore.

And now she is with someone else.

Now she is someone else's.

He knows her husband doesn't deserve her; he never has, he never will.

He doesn't know if _he_ deserves her, he doesn't know if he ever did; some say she's the one that never deserved him. He doesn't know what to think. He doesn't care, really. He doesn't care if they ever deserved each other or not– he just knows they _belong together_.

They always have, they always will.

But she can't be his again.

She is in his brain and in his heart and in his veins and in his blood and in his lungs and in his cells, and in his fibers, and in his nerves. She's everywhere. She's all around him. She's taken over him. And he could swear he can hear her whispering in his ear he shouldn't love her this much, because she is a married woman, because she made a commitment to someone else and she can't break a vow she took before the eyes of God, even though she is unhappy and miserable, even though she knows she doesn't belong with her husband but with him.

He could swear he can hear her whispering in his ear that she can't stand him wanting and loving her because she wants and loves him too, and she knows she shouldn't either.

He could swear he can hear her whispering in his ear that both his and her feelings are all wrong, because _thou shall not commit adultery_ and _thou shall not covet_.


End file.
